


I guarantee I'll be the greatest thing you've ever had

by ellisaco



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:23:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellisaco/pseuds/ellisaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's not jealous, of course he's not. What would give you that idea?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I guarantee I'll be the greatest thing you've ever had

The gathering at Aimee's flat is - well, it's perfect. The music is low and heady and everything that club music isn't, the alcohol is expensive and plentiful, the company is lovely and selective - and it's all maybe just a little bit pretentious. In other words, it's everything Nick lives and breathes for. And he should really be having a better time than he is. He swirls the whiskey around in his tumbler and wonders why anyone would possibly drink it straight, why _he's_ drinking it straight. (Louis would probably have a theory or two about that.) 

"What's up, Grimmy?" Matt asks, settling onto the sofa next to him. "You look like you want to drown yourself in that scotch. Only I know that can't be true because you're way too self important to ever try and off yourself."

Nick wonders if it's too late in his life and career to get entirely new friends. 

"Lovely to see you too, Finchy." And it's a testament to how distracted he is that _that's_ the best reply he can come up with. Shameful, really. 

Matt grins and claps him on the back. "No, but seriously. I haven't seen you looking this morose since the early stages of your mating ritual with Tomlinson."

"Worked, didn't it?" Nick grumbles. Matt likes to remind him as often as possible of his pathetic _pining_ back when Nick was just 'Harry's pretentious hipster friend' to Louis. 

Matt looks honestly mystified. "Yes. You never did tell me _how_ exactly you managed that."

"Finally succumbed to my charm." Nick says vaguely, because there's no way in hell he's telling Matt how Harry was the one that basically orchestrated the whole thing, shoving them inside Nick's flat and saying, 'And don't come out until you resolve all that bloody sexual tension!'

Matt just smirks, like he knows more than he's letting on, and Nick honestly wouldn't be surprised if Harry had regaled all of _Nick's_ friends with the story the minute after it happened. Such a boaster, that one. Nick will have to remind him that it's not an attractive quality.

"Where is your better half, anyways?"

Nick's lips come together in a thin line and he nods his head towards the kitchen where Louis is leaning against the counter nursing a beer and standing much too close to Greg. Just as Nick points him out, Louis' hand comes up to rest on Greg's bicep as he throws his head back, laughing in delight. Nick's fingers curl tighter around his glass, knuckles turning white. 

Matt's eyes widen in understanding. "Oh. I see."

Nick grinds his teeth together and doesn't say anything. Matt chuckles and rises from the couch, twirling his empty glass in his hands. 

"Well, I'll just leave you to your glaring then."

And the thing is, Nick knows Louis is handsy, downright tactile, and even more so when he's pissed, but it's one thing when he's all over his bandmates, Louis' self proclaimed 'blood brothers' ("No, really, we had a ritual and everything.") and quite another when he's shamelessly _flirting_ with one of Nick's friends right in front of him. 

Louis loses his footing for a moment and falls into Greg's chest with an exaggerated giggle, and Nick decides he's had quite enough. He stands up quickly, abandoning the scotch and marches determinedly into the kitchen. When Nick reaches the two of them, Greg's arms are still holding Louis up at the waist, and he at least has the decency to look sheepish. "Grimmy, hey -"

"We were just leaving." Nick says, cutting Greg off and pulling Louis away from him a little roughly and lot too obviously. Fuck it. 

Louis stumbles after him, fighting to keep his balance. Nick puts a steadying hand at his waist for the sake of getting the hell out of here as quickly as possible. He says a quick, stilted goodbye to Aimee, thanking her for the party, and she just raises her eyebrows at his tone and the way Louis' hanging off of him, like _I don't even want to know_. 

Nick is still guiding Louis with a hand at the small of his back as they walk to Nick's car, and Louis seems to be perfectly content to let him. And _of course_ Louis would actually be submissive the _one_ time Nick wants just the opposite, wants a rise out of him. Nick thinks that it must be Louis' mission in life to be contrary to Nick in every way. God, he even does it subconsciously. 

The drive back to Nick's flat passes in relative silence - well, as silent as a drive with Louis could ever be. He's chattering on about the party and _Nicholas, did you know that your friends are cooler than you?_ Nick's jaw clenches at that, and Louis seems to resign himself to Nick's refusal to add anything to the conversation, leaning his head against the window and closing his eyes. 

Nick gets out of his car and walks away without waiting to see if Louis needs help. He's still angry, and annoyed that Louis hasn't caught on yet. 

"Nick! Nick!" Louis shouts loudly, even though he's no more than four steps behind Nick. He turns around and raises an inquiring eyebrow. "Why aren't you holding onto me anymore? I might fall." he says, with a ridiculous pout. 

"Ah, yes. Where are Greg's broad shoulders and muscular arms when you need them?" 

Louis fishmouths at Nick for a second, like he's trying to piece the puzzle together but can't quite manage it, and then his expression changes, and God, it's about fucking time. 

"You're jealous." Louis all but crows, rocking on his feet a bit because he can never be completely still. 

Nick's eyes narrow because that was not the response he was looking for even if it was the one he was expecting. 

"You were draping yourself all over him!" Ugh. He told himself he was going to be dry and sarcastic about this, but two words and Louis' drawing him in like he always fucking does. 

"I must say, Nick, this particular shade of chartreuse looks lovely on you. Dashing, even."

Nick shakes his head and continues on to the lift, Louis following behind him. 

"And that shade of smug does nothing for you, love." It's not strictly true; with cheeks flushed from the cold and eyes just a little glassy from the alcohol, Nick's mind is wandering to places it shouldn't wander when he's supposed to be mad at Louis. And Louis grins, like he knows it, too. 

Louis nuzzles into Nick's neck and Nick honestly doesn't have the willpower to push him away. 

"Guess I'll have to make it up to you," he says, low, breathing hotly into Nick's ear, "show you that you're the only one I want."

"Make it up to yourself." he says, like that makes any sense, stilling Louis' hands where they're trying to creep under the waistband of Nick's trousers. 

The lift door opens and Nick steps out and away from Louis' wandering hands, grateful for the reprieve. He needs to clear his head and work on this staying angry with Louis thing. It never manages to stick for very long. But then, that's usually because Louis' not above using sex to distract him and, well, Nick's not above letting him. But he's trying this new thing called not letting Louis get his way just because he gives really good head. It's a work in progress. 

Louis follows Nick into the bedroom, still making grabby hands and trying Nick's patience (willpower). 

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, Nick, let me suck you off." he whines, like this is something he desperately needs. 

Nick means to say a firm no, he really, _really_ does, but instead what comes out of his mouth is, "Fine."

And, wow, he's usually not _that_ easy for it. 

Louis smiles triumphantly and pushes Nick on his back, and Nicks sighs because, somehow, Louis _always_ wins in the end.


End file.
